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Note - most stories are fictional and do not refer to anyone in particular living or dead. True stories will say they are true!

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Monday, October 20, 2014

THE OIL CLOTH

The kitchen
was always dim for there was only a small window in the room.

Near the
window sat a square table about five foot square. On it was the water bucket which held a little
less than three gallons and alongside the bucket was the wash pan.

The oft used
towel hung on a nail driven into the wall for drying purposes. There were other
items on the table also such as soap, another smaller water bucket, and a tin
cup for drinking.

In the
middle of the room near the cook stove was another table a bit larger than the
service table on which was put the vittles at meal time. A bed was in the corner where two or more
slept (sometimes a half dozen kids) and was available for sitting when the
table was filled with people.

The tables
were rough and worn from long use. They were most unattractive to look at.

The time
came when we could afford to go to the general store down the road from us and
buy some oil cloths for these tables. We would spend a lot of time making up
our minds as to what pattern we would buy.

We usually
settled the same pattern for each and once placed on the ugly tables they became
beautiful. They now were smooth, water proof and pleasing to look at.

For the next
year we were going to be proud of our new cloths till they began to show wear
and tear from heavy use.

Sadly the
time came when we had to give up that which had given us
so much pleasure. They were the only thing that added color to our lives.

As they gave
up the ghost they were given a last goodbye being burned in the fire place.

I would hope
it wouldn’t be too long before we could afford new oil cloths and brighten our
world once more.